Trials (18 page)

Those memories reawakened her yearning for Yakumo, the man her heart loved. Would he still be alive, or would he have perished under the inhuman torture of the Norghanians? Her mind insisted on the impossibility of Yakumo being alive, but her heart kept the flame of hope burning bright. She would never let that flame die as long as she was alive. Probably a barren hope, but hope after all, and one which she would cling to forever. Yakumo had promised he would stay alive and return for her one day, and that meant the world to Iruki. Every new day was an opportunity for her dream to come true, and Iruki faced every morning filled with new hope. When night came she cried silently, because once more her dream had failed to come true and the flame in her burned a little less brightly. And for all that, a few hours later her hope would be renewed with dawn. She would live that eternal cycle until she died.

Yakumo would come for her someday. He would. Her heart was certain.

“Let me check, Asur White Wolf,” she said, without daring to look him in the eye. He watched her, impressive on his piebald horse.

“Let’s hope you find the medicinal plants the tribe needs so badly. We run a great risk, coming into this territory.”

“But it’s here that the Sky Weed we’re looking for grows.”

“We are far from our own people, in the land of the Thousand Lakes. This is a territory in dispute between the kingdoms of Zangria to the North-East and Erenal to the South-East. We might very well come upon troops of both kingdoms at any moment.”

“We must keep looking. Unfortunately, these aren’t the Sky Weeds we need either…”

“Very well, Iruki Wind of the Steppes, we’ll keep looking. I’ll keep you safe, ride beside me,” said the warrior.

“Thank you, I appreciate that,” Iruki replied, lowering her head.

“There’s no need to thank me. It’s my duty to protect you. Your uncle, Unco Lake Owl told me to. But even if he hadn’t, I would anyway…”

Iruki looked into his eyes and saw that this magnificent warrior would sacrifice his life for her without the slightest hesitation. Such was Asur’s heart. The discovery filled her with a sense of security, but at the same time, it made her feel uncomfortable because she knew it sprang from the warrior’s feelings towards her.

“Which way shall we turn?”

“East, deeper into the Thousand Lakes,” she replied confidently.

Asur imitated a cuckoo’s call, prolonging the sound by using his hands, and two dozen Masig warriors appeared from nowhere on their piebald mounts.

“Four scouts, two East, one North and one South,” he ordered his men. They left immediately.

Iruki watched the riders go. They were all young, strong warriors, chosen by her uncle for that difficult mission. She felt proud looking at them: all brave, well-trained, carrying spears and short war bows. She felt safe in their company.

They marched for three days, always towards the east, bordering the bright, peaceful lakes, as blue as the sky above, which Iruki never tired of admiring. She had heard her father and her uncle talk about that area, but she had never dreamed the landscape would be so beautiful. The combination of the green and brown of the forests around the lake, and the blue, intense as the clear summer sky, left her breathless. Her ancestors’ sacred lake was overwhelmingly beautiful, surrounded by the steppes and under the Fountain of Life. But that landscape of interconnected lakes and thick forests did not pale in comparison. With a tiny sting in her heart she had to admit this might even be more beautiful.

The second day of their journey something out of the ordinary happened, something that left Iruki in a state of worry. She was riding beside one of the lakes, when suddenly the Ilenian medallion she wore around her neck gave off a bluish flash. Iruki, startled, thought at once that the other two bearers, the warrior with the emerald eyes and the pretty girl with the big blue eyes, were trying to communicate with her.

Iruki waited, anticipating the link…

But it did not come.

Instead, the medallion gave off a beam of bluish light pointing towards the east. This perplexed Iruki. What was going on with the medallion? Was it showing her the way? The way to… what? But her questions remained unanswered, hanging in the cool breeze of the early evening. As they were already following the course the medallion had pointed at, Iruki shrugged and went on with her search, which was what really hung heavy on her spirit.

During the night they camped in silence, not daring to light a fire at all. Asur did not want their presence known to any enemy patrol. The Masig warriors were used to sleeping out in the open, coping with the night-time fall in temperature but not Iruki. The second night in the lakes was colder that the first, and she began to shiver. Asur came to her with an honest smile and offered her a colorful blanket.

“Here, don’t catch cold.”

“Thank you, Asur.”

“We can’t allow our future Healer to fall sick and fail in her mission. None of us would be able to find those strange weeds. We warriors were born to fight, we know nothing of medicine.”

“I won’t get sick, Asur, don’t worry.”

The warrior looked into her eyes. His was a noble gaze, honest, and Iruki smiled at him with unusual shyness. The look became more intense and Iruki saw desire shining clearly in his eyes. She looked away and wrapped herself in the blanket.

At dawn they marched swiftly again, this time bordering a smaller lake shaped like an apple. One of the warriors came up to them at a gallop.

“Plants and weeds on the shore ahead,” he said, pointing with his spear.

“Good,” said Iruki, “let’s go.” She urged her piebald mount towards the place he was pointing at.

She jumped off and began to collect and carefully study the weeds, which were a new species, unknown to her. The wide variety of lush water-plants in those lakes was incredible. For a Masig of the steppes it was an unimaginable natural world.

“Could it be these?” asked Asur with interest.

Iruki shook her head.

“Mother Nature is playing a cruel joke on her children of the steppes,” said the warrior.

Iruki’s spirit was beginning to flag in disappointment. They were not finding what they were searching for, and they had already been among the lakes for days. But she could not give in to pessimism. She would find the Sky Weed: her father’s life and that of the whole tribe depended on it. Oni Black Cloud’s vision would never happen, the Vulture would not feed on the corpses of her people, not while she had a breath left in her body.

“Do you really believe that Sky Weed exists?” Asur asked. He too looked a little disappointed.

“We have to hold on to that hope. Otherwise we’re all doomed.”

Asur nodded. His face was worried.

One of the scouts arrived at a gallop.

“Erenal soldiers, to the South, coming close,” he told Asur.

“How many?” the leader asked.

“Light cavalry, a column of fifty men.”

Asur remained thoughtful.

“What shall we do?” said Iruki, worried. The last thing they needed was an armed conflict.

“We’ll go on towards the North-East and get close to Zangrian territory. Their yellow and black banners will soon flutter on the horizon. We’ll have to move with the stealth of a gazelle so as not to be discovered. Further on is the great lake, the biggest of all. They say it’s as big as an ocean. You can’t see one shore from the other, only the horizon. It’s as if Mother Nature had set a sea in the middle of the woods.”

“Have you seen it?” said Iruki, intrigued.

“I haven’t, but Oni Black Cloud has. He told me of its existence. Few Masig have dared penetrate so deep into the territory of the Thousand Lakes. And still fewer have come back. We must be as cunning as foxes, or we shan’t survive to say we saw the endless lake.”

Iruki caught the concern in the leader’s rough voice, and felt a pang of fear in her breast.

They rode in silence all day, wary of the presence of enemy troops, sending scouts every now and then. When night fell they camped beside a small waterfall which was fed by a crystal-clear stream which came down from a wooded mountain behind it. Beside them an enormous lake extended towards the east. The landscape was idyllic, with the waterfall behind them and the placid lake in front. Iruki relaxed completely, allowing the exhaustion of the past days to leave her body as if it were a bad spirit. One of the warriors brought her some dried meat and a full water-skin. She gulped the meal down and fell into a reverie.

The sound of the water lapping rhythmically against the shore was too hard to resist, and she began to dream. She saw herself, some not-too-distant day, being invested as Healer of the tribe in front of her father, who looked on proudly. She saw that her knowledge of healing surpassed even that of her mentor. She knew every medicinal plant and could easily prepare any healing potion. She saw her people living free of disease thanks to her care. Children played happily, and the warriors did not die from infected wounds. Suddenly a fateful shadow hovered above her. She looked up and against the clear blue canvas of the sky saw a huge vulture, its great black wings outspread. Her heart skipped a beat. Fevers, desolation: that vulture was bringing death to her.

And she opened her eyes.

A short distance away, four huge barges were approaching stealthily from deeper within the lake. Iruki stood up in alarm. The Masig scouts had not been aware of the barges moving over the water. Now they were close at hand, Iruki saw they were soldiers, dressed in yellow and black mail. They were Zangrian soldiers! Iruki was on the point of shouting when the alarm was sounded.

“We’re under attack! From the lake!” yelled one of the look-outs.

Arrows flew from the four barges to the Masig camp site, carrying death to the braves of the steppes. One arrow grazed Iruki’s head and she threw herself instinctively to the ground.

“Take the barges, Masig brothers!” ordered Asur White Wolf.

The fight which followed was terrible. Cries of war filled the idyllic surroundings. The clamor of the battle became deafening, men yelled, steel struck against steel. The Masig warriors fought with the bravery and fierceness of cornered lions, but the Zangrian soldiers outnumbered them. Iruki counted more than twenty men in each barge, all wearing mail and helmet in silver over yellow and black. They were well-equipped with steel spears and rectangular shields with painted yellow and black stripes. They were an assault group. Iruki could not understand why she had not seen them coming. The attack must have been very well planned. With only tanned leather and bone to protect them, the Masig were no match for their opponents, but they fought fiercely. Each Masig warrior was worth three of the enemy soldiers.

One Zangrian soldier fell before Iruki with a terrible axe blow on the face. Frightened, she moved back until she had retreated into the forest, and here she drew the short sword she had found in the tomb of the Ilenian king. It would not be much use to her, since she did not know how to use it, but she would defend herself to the death. She grasped it with both hands and went on retreating. The fight was turning into carnage, with the screams of the fighters growing more desperate. One Masig warrior was pierced through with an enemy spear, but before he died he buried his knife in the eye of the soldier who had killed him. Iruki watched despairingly as one by one all the brave warriors of her party fell, crushed by the superior numbers of the Zangrians.

A red-bearded officer was ordering his men to form a defensive line. Asur White Wolf finished off the last of his attackers and turned to face the barrier. Only the great warrior and one of his men were still standing. The Zangrian officer had fifteen men forming the barrier. Iruki’s heart sank. There was nothing they could do against so many. They were lost!

Suddenly she heard a noise to her right. She turned, wielding her sword, and found herself face to face with a Zangrian soldier. He made a move to attack, and Iruki stepped back. The soldier gave her the evil smile of someone who knows he will be victorious over a weaker rival. He attacked with his spear. Iruki tried to fend it off with her Ilenian sword, but did not manage it completely. The sharp point of the spear caught her arm, cutting it. This enraged her and her rebellious spirit awoke. She began to deliver two-handed strokes like a wounded panther. In the face of this fierce attack the soldier took a step back and covered himself with his shield. Iruki went on striking right and left, seeking to punish that wretch. But the soldier recovered and began to block her thrusts with ease, his shield stopping every blow. Panting from the effort, she stopped for a second to breathe. At that moment the soldier gave a heavy blow with his spear, which caught her on the temple. Iruki felt a sick pang, stumbled and fell to the ground, losing consciousness.

Grotesque laughter brought her back. She did not know where she was. She looked around and saw that she was lying on the ground. Her hand still held the Ilenian sword, and the blood that flowed from the cut in her arm was soaking the pommel red. She looked up and saw the despicable Zangrian laughing. The point of his spear was aimed at Iruki’s stomach. She looked right and saw Asur and the last of his men facing the barrier of Zangrian soldiers. They were lost, they would all die there, and with them her father, her tribe and all the Blue Clouds would die too. Oni Black Cloud’s vision would come true. Despair overwhelmed her so virulently that she almost thrust the spear into herself. But something happened at that instant of despair. Iruki heard a murmur in her ear, a faraway whisper which came from the dawn of the age of men. She thought that the pain must be making her lose her sanity.